I've been thinking about so much. About how easily I am affected by everything, yet in the moment of the truth I stay cold and stiff without being able to turn around...

About how the qualities of a dreamer I possess always end up waking me up. It makes no sense and it is hard to understand, I know. But still I find myself with scars on my face and broken knees that don't hurt as much as what's inside.

I am so yours. I am so...everyone. Being so passionate has always been my weakness. The slightest, even accidental look towards me sends my heart flying to unknown places...broad, warm; places I don't want to leave but will bite a piece of me if I don't.

I can't talk, or ask, or turn. I can only pretend nothing is wrong, and I'm not even good at that. You wonder if I'm sick; if I'm crazy. But the truth is you don't even wonder, for all these thoughts making my head tremble and breaking my knees and scarring my face are smaller, softer than dust particles inside your head.


I, I, I try my best. It's always me, me, me. I try my best to believe it's not always the same. I try my best to pull myself backwards, to stop thinking and start living.


But I can't. Not like this. Not under this circumstances.
Not where a look is everything and a scream is nothing.
Not while I am pulverized under my own morbid embrace.
Bring the light.
Please. Just a bit of it.
Let it blind me back to life.